


I sit and think about him

by btab66



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: ABBA, Fluff, M/M, Music, bit of angst, jukebox omens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/btab66/pseuds/btab66
Summary: Crowley discovers ABBA's Angeleyes and emotions ensue.Decades on, he hears the song again, except now situations have changed.Think of this as the power of music and how it acts as a backdrop to our lives.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 12





	I sit and think about him

**Author's Note:**

> Companion to my previous fic 'Crazy bout his Angeleyes'. This almost acts as a prequel and for more fluff I recommend reading the other one after!

1981

It was just after a temptation. Well, time is a fickle thing, it could have a been a day after or possibly even a week after. Regardless. 

The posters in the bar were the same: torn at the sides, colour faded and peeling from the wall at their fraying edges. A glass, half empty, lay on the table in front of him and half a dozen water rings were branded onto the wood around it. Crowley picked it up and swigged. Amber liquid swirled in the glass as he placed it back, not daring to drip over the sides and add to the water rings. Crowley himself was no different; thoughts swirled in his mind, reached two thirds in a train of thought then got flooded back down into submission by bouts of amber. Crowley vowed not to leave until his thoughts were stopped half way, at best. 

“Sometimes when I’m lonely I sit and think about him”

Music filtered into his fogged mind, emanating from the tinny speakers connected at the ceiling, projecting their music half-heartedly onto the patrons. In an unwelcome moment of clarity, his thoughts shot to Aziraphale. He began to wonder what Aziraphale would be doing.

He imagined Aziraphale would be completely immersed in a book. In fact, he would have been so enamoured by his latest leather-bound purchase that he would have forgotten to close the shop and simply sat down and started reading. His tea would have gone cold, but that’s alright because Crowley would heat it up for him again. He’d sit there in the bookshop and wait until his angel needed him; when Aziraphale’s shoulders became tense from poring over the text for so long, he would sidle up beside him and massage him until he relieved the tension. Aziraphale would thank him, turning around to press a kiss – 

No. He couldn’t think about that. He would have no reason to be there and it would be irresponsible to make Aziraphale turn him away. Let alone everything else.

“Every time when I see him, will it bring back all the pain”  
______  
Current day

Things had changed. The world hadn’t ended, somewhat surprisingly. But that isn’t the point of this story. No, things had changed between Crowley and Aziraphale. 

“Look into his Angeleyes, you’ll think you’re in paradise”

It was dark, but not oppressing. Fairy lights were wound around trees, twinkling and shimmering with energy as they cast their coloured light onto the pavement, winking at the stars above. Frosted branches of trees glittered in evening opulence, frozen in a glorious display of creation.  
Beneath this elegance, Crowley and Aziraphale were walking hand-in-hand. This being of the aforementioned changes. They were making their way to the restaurant – Crowley’s suggestion but Aziraphale’s discerning choice, of course. 

Arriving at the restaurant, the waiter led them to their table. It was sequestered in the far end of the restaurant, beside the blossoming orangery, leaving them pleasantly secluded from the others, no miracles required. 

Encroaching on their privacy, music flowed lightly from the centre of the restaurant and wound around them in comforting familiarity. Music, like words, carried such significance. It bore the power to evoke the most visceral emotion, emotion that could be repressed for decades before blooming like a wildflower at the sound of a note. Or perhaps it was more like a boulder, Crowley thought, blundering down the mountain with no hope of being stopped, inevitably crushing the wildflower in its wake.

“He took my heart and now I pay the price”

His eyes met with Aziraphale’s and they stared at each other, the latter fond and the former – well, shall we say there was a boulder and a wildflower involved.  
“Really, my dear, it’s not the most uplifting song, is it?” 

“S’pose not, do still like it though. Memories and all that,” Crowley vaguely gestured to their surroundings.

“Memories, dear?” Aziraphale shifted in his seat, making an attempt to catch the lyrics of the music.

“Yeah, ngk, you know,” Crowley leant back before continuing, “about us and well we never could have had all this, but now…”

Aziraphale understood. Of course, he understood. Except now he realised just how Crowley understood it too.

Crowley and Aziraphale shared a look of understanding before returning to their meal, content and for the first time in a very long time, at ease.

Wine was poured, delicacies were enjoyed, and smiles were shared. And Crowley? Well, he couldn’t stop thinking about a certain angel, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Keep thinking 'bout his angel eyes”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @btab66
> 
> Comments and kudos made my day :)


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